


Back to the Basics

by Nyxwrites



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, balletlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxwrites/pseuds/Nyxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you know Molly used to be a Ballet dancer? (set between the Fall and the beginning of the Empty Hearse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to the Basics

Molly headed down the streets of London, head bowed as she buried herself inside the large coat she wore. The wind billowed down the street, threatening to push the nice elderly women right off their feet. Molly kept on though, shoving through the wind and wishing once again she’d not forgotten her scarf as the air bit her face. Her final destination a block away, Molly jumped as a plastic bag suddenly scooted into her field of vision. Shaking herself, Molly set on until she reached the heavy wood door of the studio. Outside, the building looked old and rather in need of repair or just to be outright condemned, but inside everything was well kept.

Each tile on the floor was shining, the heavy wood walls smelled slightly of wood polish and every trophy in the cases that lined the hallway sparkled with care. Molly walked through the familiar place, past various rooms, listening to the soft music that poured out. She stopped for a moment outside one familiar trophy case, pausing to touch the glass. Behind it, three trophies for group and solo work bore Molly’s name, a picture of her and two girls nestled among the trophies. Molly looked sadly at the photo. These had been her best friends for a long while; one had even been her first kiss, but time had torn them apart. She’d spoken to neither in years.

“I do believe I asked you not to put your hands on the trophy case, Ms. Hooper,” a sharp voice made Molly jump, removing her hands from the glass and turning around.  
Her old ballet teacher and owner of the studio Molly currently stood in, was facing her, hands on her narrow hips but a smile on her lips.  
“Have you come to reminisce or can I help you with something?” the women, her shirt for the studio declaring her name to be Ms. Richard.  
Molly twisted her hand for a moment before replying. “I want to get back into dance,” she said quietly.

Her leave from the studio had been quite the event. A rising star she was, offered a place at an exclusive dance academy. Everyone at the dance school wanted her to go, the teachers, the students. It would bring prestige to the studio, and to the dancers there. Molly had turned her back on dance though; she’d gotten interested in science and offered a place at Uni studying biology. Molly sighed, remembering crying in Ms. Richard’s office as she told her she was leaving, expecting the woman to be angry. Instead, she’d hugged Molly, telling her to make them proud.

In time, Molly had stopped dancing; rationalizing by saying she was too busy with work, relationships and Toby. At some point, she’d realized the real reason she’d stopped was fear. She could still hear the other dancers jeering at her, calling her a coward for not going to the dance school, telling her wasn’t smart enough to do biology. By the time she’d got her degree, proved them wrong, nobody cared about her anymore, they’d all moved on. Molly drew her coat a bit tighter around her body.

After Sherlock’s fake death, she’d lost a lot of what previously kept her busy, and found in the emptiness a draw back to the dance. One morning she found herself carrying an angry Toby around the living room, spinning to the notes of Swan Lake. Later, she caught a falling petri dish, pointing her toes instinctively as her body tilted.

Over the next month, ballet kept creeping back into her life, chasing her down like the Hound on the Moors, dragging her back. Finding one of Sherlock’s scarves tucked in the back of her cubby at work finally convinced her to return to the studio, and now she found herself here, standing in the familiar hallways.

“I want to dance again,” Molly repeated, stronger now.  
Ms. Richard’s smiled, almost as if she knew something. “Ok,” she replied.

xxx

Two years later, Molly was dancing nearly at old level, and with each pirouette she felt her confidence returning. She agreed to go out for drinks with her co-workers, made friends with some of the older members of the dance class, and met Tom, her boyfriend. Sherlock made his return as she was headed home, considering the state of her ballet shoes and their slightly worn toes. He smiled at her, and quietly told her “So you’re dancing again,” making her jump.

“How’d you know I do ballet?” Molly asked.  
“When we first met,” Sherlock frowned. “You told me I had a ballet dancer’s body.”  
“I’m a biologist, I could have been classifying your body type,” Molly argued, her cheeks heating up as she tried to keep Sherlock from winning again.  
“No,” Sherlock smiled. “You weren’t.” He turned around, his coat tails doing the floating up as he moved. “And Molly,” he paused. “Get new shoes, you’ll break your ankle in your current ones.”

Molly watched Sherlock walk away, her jaw slightly slack as she watched him walk away. He hadn’t changed at all. “Stupid Holmes,” she muttered, as she texted Tom she was stopping at the dance store.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love the idea of Molly having been a ballet dancer   
> Written for makomolly as part of my informal 159 tumblr followers giveaway  
> betaed by the lovely theopoiesis on tumblr/mice on ao3  
> based off of BBC Sherlock, don't own anything that belongs to the BBC


End file.
